


How We Hurt (Ourselves)

by InsanelyYours96



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Growing Up Together, Healer Harry Potter, M/M, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanelyYours96/pseuds/InsanelyYours96
Summary: “Are you truly upset because I was injured, or because I haven’t been making time for you?”“I’m upset,” Harry bit out, tone unusually sharp, “that you even have to ask that, when we used to be close enough to read each other without even making eye contact.”Harry looked up, green clashing with grey fearlessly, gaze relentless and unforgiving. “I’m upset that you pried into my mind two months ago, saw my attraction to you, and decided to distance yourself as though I can’t put aside a stupid littlecrushfor a friendship we’ve built for over ten years!”
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 13
Kudos: 293





	How We Hurt (Ourselves)

“Seriously Tom?” Harry groaned, shooting a handful of spells at the unconscious form of his closest friend. Broken collar bone, cracked rib, several deep lacerations… what a reckless brat!

This was becoming an upsettingly common sight. Harry would come home from a day at his shop only to find a bloody Tom Riddle draped across his couch. He wondered if the man would be so brash if he didn’t have Harry’s talent as a healer so readily available.

“Not brash,” Tom grumbled weakly, and Harry flicked his eyes up to note that Tom had woken. No wonder, when Harry had just forced his collar bone into place. You felt that, numbing spells or no.

“This isn’t even the first time this week, Tom, so yes, you really are. I’m sure Salazar Slytherin is weeping at your Gryffindor tendencies from beyond the grave.” 

Tom rolled his eyes, turning so his bloody arm was visible without having to be told. “It was worth it,” he said decisively. 

“Nothing is worth you getting hurt over,” Harry snapped back, healing the superficial injury to Tom's arm swiftly. Unconcerned with the next minor cut the man indicated, he vanishing Tom’s trousers to check on the damage to his calf.

“I gained the vampires allegiance, Potter. That’s easily more important than a few minor gashes.”

“Oh, so if this is a minor gash and not something that might impede your ability to properly walk for the rest of your life, I suppose I should just leave it?”

“You’re getting snide,” Tom grumbled. 

“And you keep putting yourself into dangerous situations that I know you can use that big brain of your to think yourself out of, just because you have me to bail you out of becoming crippled!” 

A ringing silence followed the statement, and Harry didn’t bother looking up from where he was knitting together Tom’s flesh and nerves. He hardly cared if Tom was irritated at him for speaking the truth; he was pretty irked at being treated as nothing more than a convenient medical stop. Tom hadn’t sat with him for over an hour in the past two _months_ , for Merlin’s sake.

“Are you truly upset because I was injured, or because I haven’t been making time for you?”

“I’m upset,” Harry bit out, tone unusually sharp, “that you even have to ask that, when we used to be close enough to read each other without even making eye contact.”

Harry looked up, green clashing with grey fearlessly, gaze relentless and unforgiving. “I’m upset that you pried into my mind two months ago, saw my attraction to you, and decided to distance yourself as though I can’t put aside a stupid little _crush_ for a friendship we’ve built for over ten years!” 

Tom didn’t flinch back from the accusation, slowly pushing himself up with his freshly mended arm. “We are not talking about this, Potter.”

“Yes, this or _anything_ , apparently,” Harry spat back. “If you don’t want to associate with me, you narrow minded little shit, then stay the fuck away and stop crawling into _my house_ when you’re bleeding out.”

“You’re calling _me_ narrow minded? You don’t even _know_ your own mind!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“A crush, Potter? The way you think of us, we’re practically married! I’m the Dark Lord. I can’t afford to be tied down by petty things like _love,_ or friendship.” 

“I’m hardly in love with you, you egotistical berk! I never even would’ve thought of you in that context if you hadn’t been moaning my name in your sleep and _humping_ the bloody sofa.”

Tom stared at him in blatant disbelief, a flush rising high on his sharp cheekbones. “How _dare_ you accuse me of such a thing, I have never—” 

Harry flicked his wand to his temple briefly, and then away. A projection of Tom appeared, turning, whimpering, and _writhing_ across the very same sofa where he now sat. His panting was clear, and in the memory Harry drew closer, looking rather concerned. He was just reaching to shake him awake when Tom moaned out, “ _Harry…_ ”

Tom watched as the Harry in the projection froze, eyes growing wide. He blinked several times, shaking his head as though sure he had misheard, only again, quite clearly, Tom moaned his name, and Harry noted that the writhing did not seem to be out of mental anguish, but _pleasure…_

“You really did,” Harry said flatly, dismissing the projection with another flick of his wand. 

For a long moment Tom sat very still, and stared at where the projection had been. Then he took a breath and turned to Harry, eyes narrowed. 

“That dream could have been about anything,” he said coolly. “Hardly definitive proof, is it?” 

Harry's face hardened, and then he leaned down, gripped Tom firmly by the back of the head, and kissed him. 

It was not slow and sweet, or unbearably fierce and passionate. It was harsh, a furious punctuation point meant to prove something. 

When Harry pulled back it was to the sight of a panting Tom Riddle, color high on his fine cheekbones, eyes as dark and handsome as ever. 

There was an accusation hanging in the air, but Harry did not voice it. He did not mention how fiercely Tom had kissed him back, or the bruising he had likely just acquired at his hips. 

“ _Yes,_ ” he hissed instead. “ _t's all in my head._ ”

Tom opened his mouth, no doubt with one of his quick retorts, and Harry closed his eyes. He was exhausted. He didn’t have the energy to deal with any of this. 

“Just get out, won’t you? I’ve enough problems without adding your delusions to the mix.”

There was a sound of mangled frustration and denial, and when Harry glanced up Tom has vanished. 

_Just as well,_ he told himself, fingers brushing over his still tingling lips. _Just as well._

**Author's Note:**

> Well, conflict _is_ their natural state. Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Please leave a comment on your way out. :)


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